Story 1: Lampposts

Scented skins, fiery breaths and sprightly steps

Marked her trail where none paid heed to yelps

It was nine-ish when Nisha got out of office. Mumbai being the city that heartily welcomes all strugglers and dreamers, she soon got lost in the crowd that was hurrying to head back home after a long day. Now that she was a twenty-four year old go-getter, what had been a waking dream in her teenage years had transformed into a challenging reality. She was one among the many youngsters who fantasized of seizing the pinnacles of fame and success in the thriving media industry that breathed life into the city of dreams.

Nisha was an unusually pretty girl with deep brown eyes set against clear creamy skin, thick dark curls that extended to her waist and an hour-glass figure with no extra pounds. The blackness of her kohl was in stark contrast to her diamond-studded nose ring, lending her the aura of an ethnic diva. She could easily slip into any piece of clothing, be it an edgy denim shorts or a custom-tailored salwar suit. Confidence exuded from every part of her body that sizzled in tastefully sexy clothes. Being irresistibly attractive, Nisha was used to all kinds of stares - the perfected dirty looks of oglers, the sheepish smiles of gawky boys, the wishful gaze of aspiring girls, the 'who's that bitch?' glance of envious peers - all of them. It hardly shook her self-assured gait, if anything it only added to her belief that she was born to stand apart from the crowd. 

That Saturday night, she was visibly disturbed. The sweet and spicy paani puris to which she treated herself every evening didn't seem to do the trick. Her life was spicier and it tasted aweful, unlike the paani puris passing through the deft fingers of the man who confirmed beforehand whether his customer liked it theekha or medium. Maybe the dal-chawal cooked by her mother more with love than measured quantities of spice, would have helped. But that seemed very far now. She had come a long way ahead.

Ten minutes later, Nisha was opening the door of apartment D-404 inside Sun Valley residential complex in Lokhandwala, a posh neighbourhood in Andheri West. The people in the society were cautious while letting out the place to young girls, especially if they worked in the media. "You know the kind of life they lead, these girls drink and smoke and come back at odd hours" they said.

The sparsely furnished two-bedroom-hall-kitchen was inhabited by three other girls brought to the city by similar aspirations. Mahima aka Maahi, who shared the room with Nisha, worked with a production house whereas Janvi and Pooja, worked in the creative department of a bustling ad agency.

It was destiny that brought them together. Janvi and Pooja who were friends from college found a partially furnished apartment through a broker. They had to pay a rent of thirty grands apart from a brokerage fee which constituted a month's rent. To reduce the financial burden, they decided to sublet the apartment and began looking for two other roommates through popular sites like sulekha.com and Facebook. At the time, Nisha was put up as a paying guest with an old Punjabi lady who had recently lost her husband. Despite the lady's tantrums and unwarranted interference, they did strike a rapport in the initial days but as work hours turned haphazard and weekend bashes became regular, their relationship hit rock bottom. On seeing the ad posted by Janvi and Pooja, Nisha along with her best buddy Maahi, got in touch with the two and moved in soon afterwards.

Though they belonged to different parts of the country, the four understood and supported each other in ways those alien to their world could never comprehend. Blood was indeed thicker than water and as they grew older, they realized this was true. But it was water that proved accessible, not blood; be it in times of distress or rapture.

Maahi was quick to read Nisha's face as she threw the bag on her bed.

"Nisha, what's wrong?" Maahi inquired.

"Same shit Maahi! I'm getting screwed day by day. I can't take it anymore.." Nisha blurted out as she slumped into the bean-bag and lit a cigarette.

"Oh your boss again? Fuck it man. It's high time. You'll easily find another job." Maahi tried to soothe her friend's nerves.

After graduating from a premiere media institute, Nisha began working for HTV as an assistant to Miss. Sonali Sapra, one of the leading creative directors in the television industry. Incredibly talented, Sonali was a self-made woman in her early thirties. She had made it to the top through her unflinching determination even when the odds were against uncouth small-towners who grappled with the predicament of conforming to a bohemian world. Some believed that her arrogance was justified given her tumultuous journey while many others despised even the sight of her. Like all creative geniuses, Sonali was a bundle of eccentricities and Nisha was tired of puppet-dancing to the tunes of her capricious boss. Her nightmare began just a week into the job and she had successfully survived six months of torture before her fighting spirit began to dwindle away.

"Comeon its a weekend. Go out n' have some fun!" Maahi suggested.

"Yes babes, I need a drink. Wait, let me call Sid" mumbled Nisha.

Siddhant aka Sid was Nisha's boyfriend. He came into her life when she was dabbling in a frivolous rebound soon after her first breakup. Sid and Nisha took an instant liking to each other when they met for the first time four months ago at Maahi's birthday party. He didn't really have to pursue her because deep down she had been yearning for someone like him. In his late twenties, Sid was a writer and film-maker who ran his own production house. With neatly trimmed hair and toned abs, he looked more like a banker than a creative junkie. He studied filmmaking at the London Film school and  thereafter moved to Mumbai, for a part of him always felt stranded in a land that didn't recognize his roots. Sid was a manifestation of all that Nisha aspired for and knowing him gave her the vicarious thrill of touching the summit of her life. He was attracted to her in the first go. Everyone was. And they got talking over a pint of chilled beer. The intoxication was potent enough to tease the guard of lesser mortals, but not so much as to lay them threadbare. Needless to say, they exchanged BB Pins and much more in the days that followed. Through the endless conversations, their souls met and their bodies had no choice but to give way.

When Sid arrived half an hour later, it was the tantalising fragrance of toiletries that greeted him. He always loved this welcoming. If you could take a sneak-peek at the workings of his highly graphical mind, you'd know why. Nisha donned a sea-green floral tunic paired with matching stillettos, her chic elegance in sync with the breezy monsoon night. As she hustled around perfecting the greenish streak in her eyes, Sid made himself comfortable on the bed, eyeing Nisha from a corner like a little boy admiring the colours of a soap bubble he just blew.

D-Lounge was crowded as usual. In the dimly lit room buzzing with the sounds of chatter and high-energy music, the bartenders hastened through the orders in an adept manner. The tables were all occupied leaving them with no choice but to squeeze their way amidst the dedicated drinkers stationed near the counter. Several minutes later, they found a table. As Nisha sipped at her glass of vodka, lost in thoughts, Sid looked at her questioningly.

"I don't know where I'm headed..seriously! I can't take this shit anymore. And I've just begun. Wonder how that bitch got to where she is today. Maybe that's what you need to be to make it big here..a bitch.." Nisha maundered.

Sid smiled.

"Bitch or not, talent talks baby.. and that's what you have. You just need to be patient till you get the chance to prove it", he said.

"If this is the way it's going to be, I'll never get that chance"

"It's been six months now, eh? Why don't you try some place else?"

The thought had occurred to Nisha not once, but several times. But everytime she felt the urge to walk out the gates of HTV Studios, she feared it might be the most foolish decision of her career. And everytime, she convinced herself to stick around because not everyone gets the opportunity to assist the all-important Sonali Sapra. But if that meant throwing herself into the abyss of self-doubt, was it worth it?

Nisha looked deep into Sid's eyes.

"Do you think I should?"

"The show doesn't stop with one Sonali Sapra. Get your act together sweets" Sid paused for a while and gently held her hand. That was the first time that night she felt the warmth of his skin. It felt as good as it always did.

"Do you want to join me? And don't worry.. I can't be the quintessential bitch. That's not my area of expertise :D" Sid quipped.

Nisha looked demure as she giggled regardless of the jitters.

After getting out of D-Lounge, they drove down to Versova jetty. The midnight air was laden with the reminiscences of the rain that washed the city a few hours ago. It wasn't silent even at that hour. Mumbai is never silent. Someone somewhere is forever up and running, chasing an elusive epiphany. They gazed at the zestful waves lapping against each other as the stars shone down on

two wayfarers seated on a salt-kissed rock by the shores of an infinite ocean. It was past 2am when they finally got home. Maahi was not back yet. Probably she'd stay back at a friend's place. Afterall, it was a Sunday and you could afford to skip the daylight. As Nisha opened the door, Sid held her from behind, his hands wound like a creeper around her waist. He softly kissed her neck and shoulders, shutting the door after him with one foot.